


Morphine in a shotglass

by tygermine



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol/Drug Abuse, Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-09
Updated: 2008-05-09
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16129283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine





	Morphine in a shotglass

 

The sun shone with deceptive brightness outside as she pulled into an empty space in the parking lot of the liquor store. She stumbled slightly in her black high heels as she entered the store and made her way down the aisles. 

Bottles upon bottles of supressants lined the shelves. Each potion had a purpose. Her liquid morphine was butterscotch flavoured. 

She bought two bottles. 

Once back in her car, her destination eluded her. The plan was to buy her drink.   
Where to from here? 

She started the car and drove on autopilot until she found herself in front of tall white palisade gates. She glanced at the bottles lying on the passenger seat, the contents glistening in the sunlight. Rolling down the window she reached out and rang the intercom. The gates opened moments later. She parked on the grass at the side of the house. 

He came towards her car as she was climbing out. Black shoes, black silk stockings, black mini skirt, black shirt, black sunglasses. </div>

 

'On your way to a funeral?' he asked walking towards her open door. 'Or on your way from one?' 

He spied the bottles on her passenger seat.

'The plan was to go, but I was waylaid.' She shrugged.

  
'Come on.' He said turning back towards the house. 

She grabbed the bottles and followed him into the spacious house. As soon as she sat down on the overstuffed burgundy couch, explanasions flowed from her mouth.

  
'I'm so sorry to bother you. I didn't realise where I was going and well, I ended up here. I'm so sorry...'

  
'It's fine.' He interrupted her monologue and opened one of her bottles. 'Glass?' 

She shook her head. He handed the bottle to her. She took a long swig and handed it back to him. He eyed her outfit with curiosity.

  
'You want to tell me about the outfit? I know you're not one for funerals.'

  
'This one is a little different.'

  
He arched a jet brow.

  
'They they...are...were...my best friends. They died in an accident. I was going to go. I did go. Sat in the back pew. They were just lying there in their coffins. Lifeless. Dead. People started going up and telling us all how adventurous they were and fearless and so full of life.' Her hand shook as she took the bottle and helped herself to another long swig.

  
'It's just so hard to imagine that they're really gone.' She sat back, silent.

  
He sat across from her, taking in her tale. He had lost friends too and knew the shock and pain she was in.   
_Let her wallow_. He decided to himself. _Well, for a few minutes anyway_. He left the room only to return with a joint and lighter.

  
He lit it and inhaled deeply then passed it to her. She took it silently and inhaled the arid smoke. Her lungs burned and the urge to cough was overwhelming but she kept it in. Finally she exhaled and took another drag. She reached for her bottle.

  
'Remember easter.' He said quietly.

  
She withdrew her hand. 

Greenies. Never again. She had felt so sick that night. A lesson well learned.  
 

Soon enough the joint was finished and they sat there allowing the drug to take effect. Her shoulders lost their hunched feeling and her limbs felt leaden. They were stretched out on opposite couches.

  
'Two words. Beach and Jack.' He said suddenly.

  
'Yeah.' she said and soon they were reminiscing and laughing until their sides hurt. When the giggles had subsided and the air of relaxation that only comes with reggae music and weed overtook them, they lay in silence staring into space.

  
'I always envied them, you know.' she said softly

  
'Who?' he asked, his eyes mere slits.

  
'My friends. I always envied how they never thought things through. How they just did things.'

  
'It did get them killed.' he reasoned.

  
'True.' she shrugged and lapsed once again into silence.

  
After a short while, he sat up a sparkle in his eye.

'I'm hungry'. He declared.

  
'Good for you.' She murmured and concentrated on holding onto the escaping whisps of apathy in her system.

  
He made his way to the kitchen and after a time of considereable banging and crashing, he emerged with a sandwich whose height rivalled his own in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other.

  
'This is for you.' He said placing the tub on the coffee table between the two couches.

  
'I'm not hungry'. She said dismissing the ice cream reaching for one of the bottles instead. 

'I'm coming down.' She answered his arched eyebrow.

  
Once the sandwich was consumed and one of the two bottles was empty a lively argument of musical lyrisim was engaged.

  
He suddenly stood up.

  
'Let's go out.' He said 'Lets go party.' 

She stared at him in wonder. The unruly black hair, the sparkling blue-green eyes, the air of confidence about him was breathtaking. She sucked some air into her lungs.

  
'Now?' She asked 'But its late.'

  
He nodded to the wall clock above her head. 'Wrong. It's still early.'

  
'Can I at least freshen up first? I'm all rumpled.'

  
He shrugged and started to clear away the evidence of their afternoon. She grabbed a towel from the linen closet and shut herself in the bathroom. Her head spun very slightly, making her extra careful about everything she did.

 

She carefully piled her hair on top of her head so it wouldnt get wet. And carefully removed her clothes and hung them up to steam out the creases. She then turned on the water and stepped into the warm shower. The stream of hot water rinsed away her lethargy, lessened her pain and sharpened her addled thoughts. 

She grabbed a nearby loofah and scrubbed herself clean.

  
She had just slipped her skirt back on when there was a knock on the door. Josh stood in the doorway when she opened the door. Her handbag in his hand.

'I thought you might need this.' He said. 'Make up and stuff like that.'

She arched her eyebrow at him.

  
'That's fine, I just finished. Thanks for the bag.' She stepped past him into the passage, took her bag and padded barefoot to the nearest bedroom to finish getting ready.

  
Fifteen minutes later they were in his truck deciding where to go.

'I think I'm still drunk.' She stated matter-of-factly. 'I can't think of anywhere to go.'

  
'Piss Cat.' he smiled at her freigned look of shock. 'Let's hit Don's and move on from there.' He suggested.

  
'Here Here.' She cheered and turned up the radio. Her drunken enthusiasm was infectious and soon they were bopping along to old favourites en route to Don's.

 

Don's was like stepping into Rick's from Casablanca. She always thought she would come across Humphrey Bogart or Ingrid Bergman sitting at one of the tables sipping a martini. It was owned by her good friend Don, an exuberant outgoing man with a fairly large gay streak in him.

  
The twosome stumbled slightly as they approached the door, her heels and alcohol levels not working together. Nearing the entrance they spotted an unfamiliar face. A new bouncer.

'Oh oh. New bouncer alert.' she whispered dramatically.

  
'No problem.' Dismissed Josh

  
They were about to walk through the door when the newbie stopped them.

  
'Sorry. Theres a line.' He stated in a low growl

  
'You're obviously new. Were friends with Don.' she stated, swaying slightly.

  
The bouncer smirked.   
'So are all these people.' He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the line already snaking along the side of the building around the corner.

  
She whipped out her cellphone rather dramatically and called Don.

'Hi Don? It's me. We're trying to get in but your bouncer is doing a good job of stopping us. Ok, see you soon.' 

She hung up and within minutes Don was at the door escourting them in after exchanging greetings and hugs. He ushered them to a booth and signalled for a round of drinks to be brought to their table.

  
'Long time, no see, Josh.' Said Don after their drinks had been delivered.

  
Josh shrugged. 'Been busy. But I hear my brothers been quite the regular here.'

  
Don nodded and smiled then turned to her.

'How did the funeral go?'

  
'It went, I guess. Didnt stay long.' She looked deep into her drink.

  
'Didn't think you would.' With that he pulled her into a bear hug. 'Come, let's go dance.'

 

Don led her onto the partially crowded dancefloor. Don knew that other than drinking games, dancing was the best thing to cheer her up. Thay had been dance partners for years and it was evident in the ease with which they moved around the floor. The band kicked off with a lively swing number and kept the beat going for a few songs then toned it down to a slow rumba.   
As they swayed in time to the music Don leaned close to her ear.

  
'Where are you?' he asked

  
'Right here.' She said

  
'Liar. Your wheels are turning.'

  
She sighed lightly.

  
'I was just thinking about this song.' The band had struck up Begin the Beguine.

'It's about regret. I was thinking how you can only regret something if you risk it.'

  
Don nodded, spun her out slowly and pulled her back in.

  
'They must have had many regrets.' She continued. 'They were always risking things. Their necks, their lives. What I'm wondering is this. Is it better to have regrets or better to not have regrets? Are people with regrets happier or sadder?' She fell back into thought while Don explored what she had said. As the song ended he looked down on her troubled expression.

  
'I don't think you'll ever regret telling him.'

With that he led her back to the table and excused himself as business matters demanded his attention.

  
The twosome spent the rest of the night drinking, dancing and debating as the basis of their friendship dictated.

 

It was the early hours of the morning before Josh poured her into the front seat of his pickup truck. He himself was feeling more sober than he expected. She lounged in her seat, lightly running her fingers over the dashboard. Once they were en route she turned to him.

  
'This truck suits you. I can't imagine you driving anything else.'

  
He smiled but kept his attention on the road. Soon they were pulling into his driveway. He parked on the grass close to the back door. She opened her door, misjudged her footing and landed face first on the soft carpet of grass. Josh came around the truck and burst out laughing at the sight.

  
'Are...are you okay?' he asked gasping for air.

  
'Yeah.' Sh said drunkenly pushing herself up. 'Dunno how that happened. Must be the heels.' She muttered.

'Must be.' Murmured Josh while shaking his head as he helped her to her feet.

He slung an arm around her waist and together they stumbled into the house. When she felt her grip on conciousness and reality slipping, summoned all her remaining courage. They got as far as the living room when she turned to Josh and threw her arms around him.

  
'Thank you.' She whispered. 'I love you.' She then promptly passed out in his arms.

  
Josh gently lowered her onto the couch, took off her heels and placed the comforter over her. He then settled onto the couch opposite her. 

Tomorrow. They'll talk tomorrow.


End file.
